


Let it Out

by casiks



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feliks forgives him but the boy can't forgive himself, Gilbert hates himself, M/M, Mental Illness, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 21:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16542236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casiks/pseuds/casiks
Summary: Prussia and Poland have had a harsh history. Betrayal has torn them apart, and wars have left a scar that is too big to heal. The Second World War was probably the worst of it all, as it brought out the worst in Prussia, and Poland had the misfortune to see it. All of that has changed now, Prussia is a better man after the Soviet Union collapsed. Poland still has nightmares though... Luckily he has Prussia to comfort him and, little by little, try and fix their past so they can move forward.Warning: Small mentions of past abuse during the war, PTSD signs within as well as a lot of fluff towards the end.





	Let it Out

**Author's Note:**

> Aaand here it is! My first ever full length and completed one-shot :'D I literally put my heart and soul into this and I'm so happy it's finally posted. PrusPol is my favorite pairing and I could write anything about them eagerly and would love every minute of it! I hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> I also want to thank MY DIAMOND [kacchakos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kacchakos) for helping me and being my beta / editor for this! Thank you! <3333

**Drip.**

A soft sound, barely loud enough to even register to ones’ ear, came in a splatter upon enameled cast-iron. No one, especially not the one in the bedroom, would have heard it unless they were within earshot. The liquid from the faucet dripped out every few seconds with a soft “plop”, the sink having not been turned off completely. There was a single lamp that lit the bedroom, dusk having already passed not too long ago and the rest of the house was void of any other light. The only sound in the entire house was the soft hushed whine from the small animal at the foot of the bed, and the tormented breathing from the one curled in the middle of the bed.

**_How should he stop the howling wolves that trample their feet all around his head? How could he possibly dim the frightening scenes that replay when his eyes are closed?_ **

_He sees the house cave in on itself, the room changing and morphing into something else. He suddenly feels cold, so cold. Hard chains snake around his wrists, clamping tight onto the thin limbs as more do the same to his ankles. Lips part to let out more loud sobbing, naked body curled up into the corner of the dark stone room. Goosebumps appeared all across his arms and legs, the cool temperature of the cell caused the bare skin to be extremely cold. His subconscious had somehow trapped him into a cage of his past trauma, and now the Polish man could barely concentrate on his own breathing with how much he was sobbing. Weak fingers trembled, still as violent as they were when all this started, trying to hide himself; arms encasing his head as fingers gripped through his blonde locks, the strands already encrusted with dirt. Nothing was present but a simple table, a rack with multiple punishing implements on it and chains to hold him._

_Poland cried. Distressed tears trickle down a face soiled with dolor, flooding his face with painful memories. A soft word, inaudible, whispered in great distress throughout the darkness of the room—the only light being emitted from the hallway under the large door._

_“Proszę…..” His voice was harrowing, the weak tone barely coming out in a whisper as the tears fell down the bridge of his nose, dripping down to the area of the floor between his legs. The floor was beyond filthy with the floor covered in dirt, patches of dried blood and even some pools of water in the corners. **He** was filthy. Poor Feliks could feel the dirt all over his legs, back and parts of his arms and face, barely covering the bruises that caked parts of his body. There were some parts of his skin that had sores and cuts, and the dirt getting into them would definitely cause infection and even more discomfort. He so desperately wanted to clean himself, but there was no way of doing that in his position. Green eyes would snap open once again, his head coming up as he stared at the sealed, and eerily familiar, door in front of him. His eyes were forced to blink, the tears blinding him as he briefly wiped his face on his arm. It helped a little, as he was able to see what was in front of him—his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. The door in front him caused him to choke out, his sobs growing harder. He knew exactly what door it was. **He knew what room this was**. This was the very room that he would be dragged into to be beaten. This was where all his punishments occurred, all his torment from the years of 1939-1945 happened in this very room. He only ever saw this room whenever he would be put through some type of suffering. His panic, if possible, rose to new heights; especially when he heard the intimidatingly harsh voice speak from near the door, footsteps echoing as the door started to open—the light causing the smaller nation to wince and shut his eyes once more. He began to mumble out pleads and apologies, despite knowing the one on the other side of the door was not going to comply with his begging…. _

_“No, no… please— **MEISTER,** **BITTE!** ” _

**.**

**.**

The Polish nation shot up in his bed, screaming out in pure fear from the night terror he just endured, feeling as if his heart was pounding a mile a minute as his limbs clutched up to his chest. Terrified eyes glanced at the clock, displaying five fifteen in the afternoon. Of course, that was the only thing of his surroundings that he managed to understand as a massive panic attack began to quake throughout his body. Hyperventilation had taken over him, hot breath coming out in agonizing spouts as the cold sweat coated his blonde brow. Golden locks clung to his face whilst green eyes were wide and panicked. His muscles were tremendously weak, palms caked with sweat as his fingers tangled tightly into the blanket that he had wrapped around himself. The tremors that raked through those thin appendages were violent, and he was finding it much harder to control them the more the overwhelming panic set in. Tighter and tighter he tried to pull the cloth, any way to shield himself from—

…what was he hiding from?

The harsh and vivid nightmare seemed to have triggered his already existing PTSD, causing very clear hallucinations that he hadn’t gotten since the end of the war. It was the 90s now, so it was so long ago that he thought this wouldn’t happen anymore—perhaps it wasn’t good to hope. He couldn’t tell what was real or not, and that’s why his panic did not yet cease. It didn’t seem it was going to cease any time soon.

He… he **thought** he felt the room _shake_ and hear glass shatter, causing his own body to jolt instantly in intense alarm. Hands would desperately grab his knees as fingers would dig into them and pull them hastily to his chest as he fell on his left side, his shaking body pressing hard on the mattress, wailing out in sweeping hysteria. He could have sworn that the loud thunder—no…. it was just a storm. Feliks specifically remembered seeing rain before he fell asleep… _it was just a storm… **right**?_ His mind was getting the best of him, morphing and creating things that aren’t there. He could smell the smoke, hear the desperate cries as people ran from the impending doom that came for them and suddenly his mind registered BOMBS. He could hear it, _he could see it through his tightly shut eyes_. Tears cascading down his porcelain cheeks like a long, never ending river. The panic in his chest kept growing and growing, like his entire ribcage was closing in on him from how much he attempted to force oxygen into his lungs from the constant gasping. He shut his eyes again. Oh God…. He couldn’t breathe. _He couldn’t breathe._

Fingers dug harshly in golden locks, pulling hard on the strands as he desperately cried out in an attempt to end this—

_Breathe. In and out. In and out. Slow…_

_please stop, please someone help me_

_please_

**_PLEASE_ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

_It ended……_

Silence engulfed the entire room, the trembling nation did not move for the longest time. Silence remained, the clock kept ticking. He was too afraid to open his eyes, his mind telling him that the moment he does he will be back _there_ again and _he doesn’t want to go back_. So he waited. Feliks had no idea how long he laid there, sheets sticking to his sweat covered body as his fingers slowly loosened their grip on the blanket. Meekly, he opened his eyes to see that….

_…. nothing. He was in his bedroom, safe, under the covers._

There were **no** bombs. There was **no** fire. Everything was fine, _he was fine_. The tight feeling in his chest did not diminish, though.

**_Drip._ **

Eyes, hurting from crying, blinked slowly as he registered the sound. How long had he been shaking? How long had he been crying? Emerald hues slowly glanced to his left, sclera blood shot from perhaps the harshest panic attack he had ever had to endure. His eyes caught sight of the bathroom door that had been open, mind registering the constant drip of water from the faucet. He didn’t want to get up whatsoever, feeling far too weak to do so. Muscles shifted, a small pained noise coming as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He weakly pushed himself to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and it was only then that he realized the soft whimpering, and the feeling of a small tongue licking his bare leg. Looking down, the white Pomeranian was currently licking Feliks’ leg, giving off little whines after he had stopped and looked up at his owner.

“...Żulik? oh, no… żulik, I—” His head turned to the clock, puffy eyes widening when he caught sight of what was on it. **6:35**. It was 6 o’clock at night. He had forgotten to feed Żulik.

Well, the time certainly confirmed how long his panic attack had occurred. His fingers trembled as they ran through his hair, pushing it to the left side of his face. Blonde strands were damp from how much he had sweat, shaky breathing coming from him as he slowly forced himself to stand up on his feet. Bare feet touched down on the soft carpet, toes stretching out and curling under as he stood up.

“Tak… Ah—I’m sorry. Come here, chłopak…” The dog let out a simple whine, before yipping and running around in a small circle. He then proceeded to jump up into Feliks’ arms when he opened them for his pet. Carrying the canine whilst lightly petting it, feliks still felt his emotions reach a level of turmoil that he couldn’t control. As he walked out of the room, he suddenly felt the overwhelming nausea come over him. A pale hand shot up and covered his mouth, a soft groan releasing from the back of his throat. The nausea clawed at his throat, and he tried to force down the bile, but it was too late. He couldn’t help dropping Żulik, the dog falling on its feet as feliks ran to the nearest bathroom. Hacking and coughing sounds came from the bathroom after he had lurched forward and sunk to his knees. His stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out. His face was white, covered with sweat, and tears. The horrible stench invaded his nostrils and he heaved even though there was nothing left to go. His sobs had started up again as the heaving didn’t seem to end. Fingers dug hard into the sides of the toilet bowl, the top part of his body leaning against it as his strength was slowly failing him, digits trembling as he weakly trying to keep himself in an upright position, but the constant heaving and coughing was eating away at his energy.

He didn’t hear the soft click of the door closing down stairs.

 .

 .

The Prussian lightly gripped the steering wheel with one hand, comfortably leaning back in the car seat as his eyes watched the road in front of him intently. One hand, pale as the snow that travelled down to the ground below outside of his car, reached over to pick up the single bottle of Erdinger Kristall that was placed in the cup holder. This happened to be one of his favorite brands of beer. It had a certain taste to it that others didn’t, and the alcohol was strong which made it even better. He _loved_ it. Gripping the bottle with his left hand, eyes remaining on the road the entire time, he gripped the top of the bottle hard in order to apply just enough pressure… and the top popped off, simple as that. He didn’t care about where the top fell, deciding to worry about it later as the bottle touched his lips. He chugged down several long gulps of the alcohol, letting out a satisfied sigh as the cool liquid traveled down his throat. The feeling and taste were so good, he could feel his taste buds tingling with pleasure. Soon, he came to a halt at a red light, his 1998 Audi A4 black in contrast to the white snow around. Sighing, he placed the bottle back in the cup holder and leaned back in aggravation, hand outstretched towards the front of him toward the red light. “What is this, the fourth one? Fucking _bullshit_.” He had been unfortunate throughout the day to come across more than one red light and slow cars, causing his anger and annoyance to get the best of him. He even ended up honking his horn at a few cars and even flipped off a person that he had been behind for approximately fifteen minutes that day, completely pissed with how slow they were going. He thanks whatever higher power there is that he didn’t end up being stuck in traffic, he knew he wouldn’t have the patience for it. Honestly, all he wanted to do was get home to be with Feliks so he can—

 _Ah_ , speaking of Feliks.

Gilbert had briefly pressed his elbow on the side of the door beside him, fist clenched with his head leaning against it. Once his mind wandered to Feliks, ruby eyes would glance over on the passenger side of the car where there lay a small gift. Inside was something he saw Feliks looking at the last time they had been to the mall, but for some reason decided against buying it. Gilbert wasn’t entirely sure why, since it was obvious Feliks had the money for it—and it _was_ cheap. Still, he was thankful that he didn’t. This meant that Gilbert himself could get it for him, along with a small brown bear with a red ribbon wrapped around its neck. The Pole was going to love it, and the Germanic could already see his little sweetheart’s face light up. Prussia loved pampering him too much, finding any opportunity he can to show affection or give him any sort of gift. As his eyes gazed at the gift, the slight grin that had developed on his face began to disappear slowly as his thoughts wandered. He loved being with Feliks. He was content and beyond happy. The two had bonded so well during Russia’s occupation that they became _inseparable_ at this point. Hell, just this year they decided to go the next step and make their relationship official. They were together as of this year and everything’s been wonderful. Their current relationship feels so right for the both of them, but at times… Gilbert will feel as if he doesn’t deserve him. That sweet melody of his laughter that sounds every time he tells his jokes or whenever he becomes playful with Feliks. _ANYTHING_ for that laughter of his to resonate. _He doesn’t deserve to hear it_.  The gorgeous smile that appears on that captivating face. _He doesn’t deserve to see it_. The euphoric feeling of that soft skin, the electrifying sensation his nerves get whenever he gets to runs his own hands down that smooth flesh. _He doesn’t deserve to touch it_. He doesn’t deserve to **_be_** touched by him either. He especially does not deserve the feel of those lips touching his own. His mind clouds with negativity, the constant chastisement his internal monologue gives himself will never let him forget. He will never forget what they were, what had happened in their terrible past. He will never forgive himself for what he had done and what he had put _him_ through. His scars run deep, but he knows the scars that Feliks carries are even worse than his own. His physical scars may fade to soft white lines, but the mental damage stays.

 _Your fault._ A voice hisses in his mind, spitting angry venom towards himself _. You are the reason he has those scars. Your fault. You’re a vile piece of—_

He closed his eyes tightly and his hand gripped harder on the steering wheel. _Ja_ , he thought to himself. _This is fucked up_. And it is. They shouldn’t be together like this because of their harrowing past, especially after the hell on earth Feliks suffered at the hands of Gilbert himself. No matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be able to shake the irritating feeling in his core that this is wrong and he shouldn’t be with him. Feliks is full of light and he deserves _better_. Gilbert doesn’t care one bit if Feliks forgives him, _he’ll never forgive himself_.

A quick image of Feliks’ smiling face flashed through his mind. At that moment, his emotions took a turn.

Despite the feeling of regret and uncertainty for all of this; He’s going to try. He’ll put all the effort he has into this relationship between them. _For him_. A soft whisper sounded in his head. _I’ll do it for him, not for me_. Despite all of these thoughts that fill his head, his love for Poland is still stronger and he is prepared to cherish him and always be there for him. He’ll do anything for Feliks—and he’ll only leave him, without a second thought, if it was Feliks that wanted him to. Their bond is binding, as if it were sealed by iron and was completely unbreakable. He’ll stay with him for as long as Feliks wants him to, and he’ll gladly do so because Feliks means the _world_ to him.

A soft scoff came from the back of his throat as his grin returned. He couldn’t wait to see Feliks’ face when he opened his gift, it would be the best thing he would witness—

The car behind him pressed on the horn for a long moment, startling Gilbert out of his thoughts and causing him to curse. “Gah—Scheiße!” His attention was brought back to the street in front of him, the light above him had turned from red to green again. The car again honked its horn. “I’m fucking going, arschloch!” He shouted over his shoulder as he moved his arm up, flipping the bird at the car behind him. He stepped on the gas and almost instantly, the car was moving again. He was glad that that his destination wasn’t far; the house quite literally being only several feet from that one stop light. The car turned one single corner and continued forward for a few feet until it began to slow again, taking a left turn into the driveway. The tires soon came to a halt in front of the house, Gilbert shifting the gears and putting it into park. Afterwards, he took the keys out of the keyhole and pocketed them before reaching his hand over and grasping the present firmly, lifting it from the seat. He quickly put the bear inside as well, not wanting Feliks to see that part of the present until he opened it. Once he opened the door, a sharp gust of wind hit against him with a flurry of snow, causing him to briefly turn his head away from the impact of it; easily stepping out of his car after a moment. His jacket thrashed about in the fierce gale, his hands quickly shifting the fabric of the jacket so that it’s more secure around him as he proceeded to walk towards the house. The weather was extremely cold; however, he wasn’t outside long enough for it to bother him. After closing the trunk of the car and getting the carton of beer and other essentials he had picked up out, he carefully walked up the steps and managed to open the door with the hand that was holding the present. The door opened with a soft click and the Prussian man proceeded inside passed the threshold, breathing out in relief as the door shut behind him. Vermillion hues glanced about the room for a brief moment, shrugging off his coat and placing it on a coat hanger whilst slipping his boots off leisurely. “Feliks?” He called out, walking to the kitchen and placing the carton of beer on the counter as well as another bag that had some groceries in it. He kept hold of Feliks’ present, head glancing around to his left, where an open door was that lead into the living room. “ _Feliks_?” He called a bit louder, but yet there was still no answer. Getting curious, Prussia walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. He passed the room and existed through the door that lead into a longer hallway. As he walked, he realized that Feliks was no where to be found on the bottom floor; all the rooms being vacant. So, he attention turned to the stairs. He ascended up the stairs at a normal pace, but as he got higher, he could make out what sounded like distressed noises. He stopped for a split second, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he listened hard to those sounds. As he listened, he took a few more steps, already really close to the top of the staircase. It was then he realized what he was hearing was **_crying_**.

Gilbert raced up the last couple of steps instantly, running down the hall to where the sounds were coming from. His heart felt tight, agonizing concern shooting through his nerves like a rapid bullet. He came upon the bathroom as quick as lightning. The door was slightly open, but once he had gotten to it, his hand knocked it all the way open hard enough for it to slam harshly against the wall. The scene that his eyes distinguished caused his heart to almost drop to his stomach. Just seeing Feliks hunched over the toilet and sobbing was more than enough for the albino to rush over to him whilst shouting out “FELIKS!” in more fret than he had previously. His first breath is tight, gripping at his chest and aching all the way up to his throat. He was immediately kneeling down, hands clutching at Poland’s shoulders as he tried to control the rising panic that was growing in him, the present discarded. “Bist du in Ordnung?!” He asked with alarm, fingers gently gripping Feliks’ shoulders as the blond pulled himself up, still weeping. Poland coughed and spit out any remaining bile, breathing out heavily as he tried to find strength to respond through his cries; now trying to mask them. “G-Gil..? I… _I a-am fine_.” The smaller male spoke weakly. In truth, he was not expecting the other to have come this soon. But now was not the time to focus on that as he tried desperately to keep his breathing intact and stop the sobbing, which was slowly starting to diminish. Gilbert frowned and quickly reached over to the towel rack and pulled out a large rag. “Shhh… Hold on, let me get this.” He stood up in a fast pace to place the rag underneath the faucet, turning the handle on quickly as the liquid fell upon the cotton fabric. After this process was done, he returned to his partner and with his free hand, he brought it behind the Polish nation to pull him closer, supporting the nape of his neck and placing the rag on his face. He wiped his mouth of any remaining bile that had been on his face. Gilbert also took care to wipe the sweat from his face. Feliks said nothing during this, although he did enjoy the feeling of the warm rag on his face. “Calm down, **_breathe_**.” Gilbert’s gentle tone sounded, wiping the rag over his forehead one more time before tossing it back to the sink, his hands moving to gently cup his face. The crying had stopped as Feliks just gazed at him, small hitches of breath were the only thing coming from him at this point. “Fel, what happened? _Are you okay_?”

Feliks seemed to finally register the situation completely, eyes blinking in slight confusion; his entire face was damp now, so the tears weren't as prominent—but his eyes were still red and puffy.

“Gilbert? When… when did you get here?” His voice was breathless, letting out a small utterance of quiet inquiry. Feliks’ hand raised to grip at Gilbert’s forearm as the other put the rag down, kneeling further and scooping Feliks up in his arms as he spoke: “About five minutes ago.”  He had taken care to flush the toilet before strolling over to the sink and sitting Feliks on the counter.

Reaching over, he picked up a toothbrush and toothpaste out from where they were kept, popping the cap open and squeezing the paste on the bristles. “Here you go.” He said gently, handing the item to Feliks, who took it from his hand. Opening his mouth, he began to brush his teeth thoroughly with a sigh. Feliks made sure to scrub every inch of the inside. Just the thought of anymore bile or odor being in his mouth made him cringe.

“Here, drink this. Do you want me to get the mouth wash?” Gilbert asked gently after handing Feliks a cup he had retrieved from the bathroom counter, previously filling it with water before he had spoken.

Digits gripped around the cup, bringing it to his lips as he swished it around in his mouth, spitting it out into the sink once he was finished. No words came from him, the only answer he gave was a small nod. Reddish pink eyes remained on his partner for a moment longer, before he then turned his head and retrieved the mouth wash from the cabinet. “Scheiße, Feliks...“He spoke in a low tone, an exhale releasing as he opened the bottle and poured a fair amount into the top, allowing it to reach the line. “...you nearly gave me a heart attack. What happened—“

Turning back around, Gilbert took in the sight of Feliks, left hand up and grasping slightly at his right wrist as his free hand was grasping a bit at his hair. Tears had returned to the corner of his eyes, and it was obvious how much he was trying to hold them back.

Gilbert moved back over to him, his hand coming up and cupping the nape of his neck. “Polan, what is it? _Talk to me_.”

Feliks responded with a small shake of his head. No, he did not want to tell him about the nightmare. He didn’t want to be responsible for anymore guilt that Gilbert might feel because of him.

“I… don’t want to talk about it.” Feliks mumbled as he reached for the mouth wash Gilbert had in his hand, bringing it up to his lips and then swishing it in his mouth. The tightness in his chest was still there, the strong urge to cry was so prominent, but he forced himself not to. After spitting out the mouth wash, he sighed. The feeling of freshness in his mouth was much better than before. Looking back at the albino, Feliks sighed at the look of unrest on his face; it was easy to see the way those white brows narrowed in a sort of worried glare, that if he wouldn’t get an answer now, he would later.

“Gilbert, I just had… h-had a _bad dream_ ,” His voice cracked for a moment, the anguish almost broke through the dam he had constructed. “I’m serious, it’s nothing t-to worry about…” It was clear to Gilbert that he was trying so hard to hold back the cries that he was desperate to keep inside. A frown formed on his pale face, an inhale occurring as he stood taut for a moment.

Looking into those green eyes, he could see beneath the mask Feliks was trying to keep over his face. However, his mask was cracking and Gilbert could see the unspoken truth. The way Feliks kept averting his eyes from him was a silent give away that whatever it was, Feliks didn’t want him to know. _That_ was a dead giveaway. Scarlet-like hues softened quickly, gentle hands reaching out to cup his lovers face, thumbs lightly rubbing against those cheeks in an attempt to comfort. “Feliks…” His voice was gentle, the tone light as a feather. He bent his head so that they were eye level. “Bitte, look at me.” A gentle request as there was a soft pitter patter of feet on the floor; Żulik seemingly watching the both of them in unrest as a small yip expelled from the dog. Feliks was silent for a moment, his adam’s apple moving up and down from swallowing thickly. Slowly, dejected green eyes flickered up to look at Gilbert. Their eyes locked, pupils never leaving the others as the taller of the two searched those emerald pools for something. There was a swelling of dread incasing itself around his chest, and the pressure grew worse and worse when he noticed that the other was _still_ holding back tears that wanted to break out. No, he wasn’t going to allow him to hold any of that back. “Hey…. _liebling_ \--” That word felt foreign, his lips moving slowly as he spoke in a sort of whisper. Their relationship had just started, and he was never really sure when he should start giving him more pet names besides “Fel” or other things of that sort. Still, he just felt like doing it now. “--don’t do that. Komm her.”

Feliks throat was tightening up again. The urge to cry now strong once more, and it got harder to hold with each passing second. The moment he heard those words come from Gilbert’s mouth, his body leant forward into the warm embrace. Feliks felt himself being lifted up into his partners arms, his own hands coming up and draping themselves on those broad shoulders as he pressed his face against Gilbert’s collar bone. The Polish man breathed in, the scent of the other overwhelming his senses as he let out a soft, yet shaky exhale. With Gilbert holding him like this, it was getting harder and harder to hold his tears back. He could feel his resolve begin to slowly break as his whole body trembled.

Holding the blond nation in his arms, Gilbert slowly made his way out of the bathroom and turned right down the hallway. After several paces forward, he made it to another door which was already ajar. He entered the bedroom, in which he had been in many times before, carrying Feliks’ still trembling body over to the bed. Sitting down upon the soft cushion, his arms gently shifted Feliks into a more comfortable position. A comforting hand came up to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in blond locks as Gilbert’s other hand rested on his back, rubbing up and down lightly. The dissolved nation could feel fingers dig into his shirt on top of his shoulder, and as he sat there thinking about the situation and worrying about the other… he didn’t want to press on what has caused his lover to be this distraught, even if he had a hunch. No, if he was to find out, he would let _him_ tell of it when he is ready.

“It’s okay, puppe…”

The trembling was calming down little by little, but he was far from being completely calm. Gilbert could hear the hitched breathing that was muffled by his own chest, and the fact that Feliks was still trying to hold it back internally annoyed Gilbert. His eyes even narrowed for a split second; but looking down at his boyfriend made his heart sink. It hurt him to see him hurting. He couldn’t stand it. His eyes softened as any annoyance, regardless of how small, vanished on instant as he held him as closely as possible. “Liebe..” His voice, soft as a feather, sounded against his ear. “I got you. Beruhig dich… It’s only me. You can let it out.” His voice was calm and gentle like a summer breeze, lips barely opening when he spoke those words. Hearing it, Feliks’ bottom lip started trembling, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes as he clung to Gilbert tighter.

“ _Let it out_.”

Those words were like a key opening a lock; and once the lock turned, the flood gates opened. It started with small hitches of breath, as if he was struggling to breathe. What followed was a symphony of hysterics that he had been trying so hard to hold back. Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream and then the sobs let themselves out in an instant. It was a symphony of anguished cries, breaking from his ribcage as if they were trapped in the depths with no way to escape and only now they were being let free. He remembers letting out his pain with his tears earlier, when he was alone… but he doesn’t remember crying this hard, it was almost as if he was borderline wailing. Maybe he did cry this hard before, but it didn’t matter, he doesn’t care about before. The past means nothing to him, all that matters is what is happening now. Now he has Gilbert, he isn’t alone. Gilbert’s here, and he feels safe and secure being held in his arms like this and there was **_nothing_** that could pull him from this position. His arms clung around the albino, the others strong arms holding him secure as Feliks’ fingers grasped tighter on the back of his lover’s shirt.

The Prussian personification closed his eyes, now switching tactics and gently rubbing circles into the Slavic nation’s back soothingly; the hand that was grasping his golden head let his thumb gently caress the back of his head, near his ear. Hearing the wails was like a stab to his chest the longer they went on, but he made sure to keep silent and let him cry. If Feliks wished to speak, then he would when he is ready.

It seemed to go on forever. The seconds turned into minutes.

It felt like hours, but from what Gilbert could tell after looking at the clock again, it had only been roughly 14 minutes at most. Feliks had been quiet for a good few minutes, just laying limply against Gilbert, his breathing no longer rampant. Gilbert could feel Feliks give soft inhales and exhales, and attempting to gain the other’s attention, he gently patted his back – the place between his shoulder blades.

“Feliks?”

“…..Przepraszam.”

A white eyebrow would raise quizzingly.

“Was? What are you sorry for?”

A small sniffle could be heard, Feliks raising his head and wiping his face. His hair had stuck to his face due to how it was damp from crying, and Gilbert was quick to help him wipe his face, his thumbs moving across his damp cheeks in an attempt to dry them. “…I got your shirt wet.” It was a soft mumble, but it was easily heard. Gilbert had paused, but once that sentence processed he let out a chuckle. “Halt die Klappe. You know I don’t give a shit about that.” A small grin had broken on Gilbert’s face as he caressed the smaller male’s face, before moving to cup his nape. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” He asked softly, tilting his head to get a better look at Feliks, as he had been looking down slightly.

“Nie. Because you’ll…” Feliks started, but stopped abruptly and just bit his lip.

“I’ll what? Feliks… don’t hide from me.” Gilbert said seriously, leaning in close enough to the point of which their foreheads were touching. Feliks slowly looked up to where their eyes locked. He was beyond hesitant, but with how persistent Gilbert was being, it was easy to tell that he wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for much longer.

“…..You will try to leave when I say it.” Those words, full of disquietude, came out in a quiet and quick manner. In a way, he was half-afraid to admit this because he knew **_exactly_** how Gilbert was going to take it. In the past, there were times where he was unfortunate enough to fall back in a state of mental suffering – whether it being due to some sort of trigger that made him recall a certain event, or otherwise. It all was the same in the end. Post traumatic stress disorder was something he dealt with, and at times when he is deep in that state, he can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. His fear blinds him to the world around him and it _suffocates_ him. There was a time where he had been with Gilbert when it happened, and Feliks knew how it made Gilbert feel to see him in that state… and to know he is _responsible_. World War II may have been 50 years ago, but the scars from it still run deep in _both_ Feliks and Gilbert. They say that war brings out the worst in a person, don’t they?

Guilt, terrible guilt is the instant emotion he feels when he hears those words. Feliks doesn’t even have to say anything else, Gilbert knows. White eyebrows knit together as he frowns heavily, body slowly tensing. He hates himself, and he’ll never forgive himself for what he made Feliks become. He snuffed out the candle that made him so bright in the past. _You’re right_ , Feliks would say. _But you’re the one that’s helping… you’re cleaning up the mess, picking up the broken pieces that you smashed. You blew out the candle, but you’re also picking up a match and re-lighting it_. It wasn’t an actual conversation, it only occurred in his head, but it was enough to make Gilbert scoff. It wouldn’t work, no matter how hard Feliks tries to make him feel better, the guilt of his sins will not go away.

Those hands gripped tighter into his arms, knowing by past occurrences that those hands were about to retract and attempt to leave. Gilbert recalled the look on his face the last time he went through one of those panic attacks, or one of his terrible PTSD episodes. He remembered the look of _helplessness_ and _fear_. He never wanted to see him like that again – and even now, knowing that the episode has probably subsided, he still wasn’t too sure if he should be staying there. He didn’t want to make anything worse with his presence.

“Don’t.”

The word was breathed out, tone desperate and full of worry. “Proszę. Don’t go.” His voice was choked up with his cries, and his fingers were holding onto the fabric of Gilbert’s clothes now like iron. He pursed his lips, words escaping him as he tried to come up with something to say. “Feliks…” His voice was dripping with dejection. Gilbert was able to tell the signs; Feliks was obviously not suffering through a PTSD attack, so it was safe for him to stay, like he wanted to… right? Whenever he had to see the Polish nation go through that, he would always want nothing more than rush over, to scoop him up, to hold and comfort him until he was no longer shaking or crying. It _pained_ him to the core and he wanted to make it better. But during those times, he knew he couldn’t—otherwise he would cause more triggers and it would make his already extreme self-hatred amplify. When Feliks goes through that, sometimes he can’t tell where he is or what the year is. Sometimes he would even revert back to that mindset and just **_seeing_** Gilbert’s face would make everything worsen… But now, it seemed okay to stay with him, to hold him like this—it was also _clearly_ what Feliks wanted.

“…nein, I’m not going anywhere. _Versprechen_.” His hands, that were inching away from his body returned again, gently holding him as he gained more confidence that it was okay to still remain. The guilt that was ever present within his chest often made him question whether it was okay… to be with him like this? Given there past and how much darkness is in it… However, the bond they had built over the years was stronger than ever and the love he felt for the polish nation that had built up over time overshadowed _any_ negative thoughts that he had. They were there, but they were blurred by the positive thoughts. It’s hard to forget the past, but what matters is that they are here _now_ and that everything is better.

He would stay with Feliks forever, until his death. Of course, he promised himself if there was ever a point that Feliks _wanted_ him to leave, he would. Feliks’ comfort and happiness meant too much to him.

Gilbert held him closer, the smaller form of Feliks fitting perfectly in a curled-up position in his lap. The albino brushed his nose against the others cheek, gently coaxing his head up a bit until he was able to press gentle kisses on his forehead, slowly moving down to his cheek. Those soft pecks were enough to start calming Feliks’ sniffling and ragged breath completely. With a content sigh, he moved his face an inch closer to Gilbert, enjoying the feel of those lips on him.

After a few seconds though, he frowned.

“Gilbert?” His tone was curious, emerald eyes opening to meet red ones. Gilbert kissed at his temple, seemingly barely paying attention other than making a small inquiry in the back of his throat. “Hmm?” He slowly moved away to look at Poland’s face, whose eyebrow was raised with an incredulous expression. “ _Was?_ ”

“Your breath… were you drinking and driving?!”

Gilbert blinked in confusion, a scoff soon coming from the back of his throat, lips curving into an amused smirk as he let out a laugh.

 _Ja, he’s definitely back_.

“Tak! You were!” Feliks accused, giving the larger male several crisp smacks on his bicep. Gilbert was quick on the defense, raising his arm up in an attempt to block the hits while the Slavic nation kept them going. “Scheiß—Es tut mir Leid!“ He chimed in surrender, being forced to lay back against the mattress whilst Feliks manuevered himself to where he was straddling Gilbert’s waist.

“You better be sorry—you—kurwa, what if you had gotten hurt?!“ As a few more smacks rained down, Gilbert was able to grip Feliks‘ wrists, holding them at bay. His face still contorted in a grin, he let a chuckle out from within his chest.

“You’re adorable when you’re worried about me.” He teased, pulling those hands down to lightly press a kiss there. Feliks frowned, a small flush appearing on his face. “Calm down, Feli… I’m fine, aren’t I?” He spread his limbs out for emphasis, letting Feliks see that there was, indeed, no wounds or anything of the like.

“Yes, but what if you weren’t?! I… _don’t want to lose you_.” Feliks admitted finally in a small voice, plopping his body down to where it was pressed completely against Gilbert, his face against that broad chest that he always felt safe against. There was a pause from the other man. It was as if time itself had stopped for a moment.

Slowly letting go of Feliks’ wrists, Gilbert let his hands fall around him. One gently caressing his back while the other just rested around his waist. Hearing those words felt as if someone has taken a knife and shoved it deep within his chest, causing all joking to immediately cease.

“You won’t lose me, lieb. It’s as I told you, ja? You’re stuck with me.” He gave a grin, reaching a hand up to lightly brush the hair out of Feliks’ face and give a small pinch to his cheek, enticing a small chuckle from the Polish nation. Turning his face back away as to hide it. “Nie!” Gilbert’s grin grew wider at that, and his hand snaked back under there, but instead of pinching his cheek again, his fingers found the skin of his neck and tickled around there, causing a shriek of laughter from Feliks. “Nie, stop..!” He laughed, as did Gilbert. But he didn’t stop yet, as he felt a burst of sudden playfulness. His hands found his sides, poking and tickling any place he could find that would bring the highest laughter out of Poland. It worked as he had wanted as Feliks laughed and squirmed in his position. “Gilbert! Ty kurwa, nie! I’ll kill you!” It was then that Gilbert laughed, stopping the torture and wrapping both arms around his lover and giving a little squeeze. “Now, Komm schon. I got something for you.” Sitting up, Feliks looked at him curiously.

“What is it?” The question rolled off his tongue as he allowed himself to be gently maneuvered off of Gilbert’s lap and upon the couch. Feliks was beyond curious, since it wasn’t his birthday, nor was it a holiday that required gifts. Still, emerald hues watched in curiosity as Gilbert rose from the bed, the grin remaining on his face as he gave a quick wink, dropped eye contact after a moment and quickly moved out of the room. Feliks sat patiently, watching the door with furrowed brows.

It didn’t take long for Gilbert to return to the bedroom with a small gift bag in his hand. Green eyes glanced down at the bag, before returning up to gaze into red ones. A small smile cracked as he gave a bit of a bashful giggle. “Gilbert, what’s this for? I didn’t get you anything…” He spoke, his smile growing once Gilbert had sat down, and promptly pulled the blond back onto his lap, arms wrapping themselves around his waist as his chin rested on his shoulder, that cheeky grin never leaving as he placed the bag on Feliks’ lap. “Shhh, just open it.” His words were gentle, but the tone held a speck of enthusiasm. Feliks gave a soft scoff, his hands reaching up and beginning to open the bag whilst pushing the gift wrapping aside in order to peer inside. What he saw made his heart nearly stop.

“….”

Digits trembled as they dipped into the bag, fishing out a small bracelet. It looked extremely old fashioned, 13th century styling and all. In the center of it, there were two birds. One was a black and the other was white.

These birds were also on the Prussian and Polish coat of arms.

Feliks held the jewelry as if it was the most sacred thing in the room right now, his wrist starting to tremble along with his fingers as he felt fresh tears begin to pool around the corners of his eyes. Good and bad memories began to play in the back of his head, all swimming about in the deep caverns of his mind. Feliks opened his mouth, trying to find words to express what he is feeling right now. The only thing he could manage to get out was a simple “…How?”

“It wasn’t easy…” A sigh, hand scratching at the back of his head before running through white strands. “It’s like finding a needle in a fucking hay-stack. The number of hours I spent at the library, on the computer and at museums! Scheiße, you are lucky you are worth it.” Looking down at Feliks’ mesmerized face, he chuckled.

“It is only fair. I destroyed the other one, it only makes sense that it should be my responsibility to get you this on–“

Those words were cut off when he felt a smaller body suddenly turned around in his lap, now sitting facing him, slender arms wrapped tightly around his neck with Feliks’ face pressed into his collar bone. Fingers would dig into the fabric of his clothing as images from the past began snaking into the forefront of his psyche.

How long ago that had been…

 

_Dusk had set in. The sky was enveloped in thick redness with a bit of orange as the sun set behind the trees, soon to throw them all into darkness._

_Feliks stood at the high steps of the capital building, the cool spring breeze of Kraków causing his hair to blow along with the wind. He stood, donning 13 th century clothing upon the high steps as he sighed, contemplating how he got to this position. Germania’s offspring had always been a thorn in his side since the moment he came to this earth. Feliks was unsure, but to him it seemed like the little devil **wanted** to make his life a living hell; who would have thought they would be standing side by side, on the same side of a conflict. _

_It had been recent. But Feliks had felt himself growing a sort of attraction to the man ever since he came to him, proclaiming his yearning for nation status. What was he to do? The Polish nation, at first, wanted to deny the others advances, but in the end found himself actually wanting the other to succeed._

_And succeed he did._

_This attraction, however, turned to somewhat of a crush over time. Feliks’ catholic side was disgusted by this self-realization, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts, the dreams, or the images of that handsome face hovering over him in bed with that breathtaking smug grin—_

_Feliks shook his head violently, a flush growing rapidly on his face as he rubbed a hand up to his forehead. No. Those thoughts are sinful, he mustn’t…_

_“Look at you. Going to hide out here all night?” Came an amused voice, snapping Feliks out of his thoughts as he turned and caught sight of Gilbert. The Former Teutonic Knights, now known professionally as the Prussian Confederation stood in all his glory, wearing his own stylish 13 th century uniform. The hat was gone, so those white locks also danced against the breeze slightly. _

_“It was getting cramped in there. Gówno.. I don’t know how you stand it.”_

_“Let’s just say I’m used to it.” A chuckle, and he soon stands beside Feliks._

_“I don’t think I ever thanked you for your help.” The Prussian spoke, leaning against the railing that was in front of the both of them so he could get a good look at Feliks. “I’m surprised a little scrawny nation like you decided to help at all.” An Impish grin developed on his face after that._

_….Ah, there it is._

_“Do you want to die?! Głupi Germański, I shouldn’t have helped you at all if this is how you are going to repay me!” Feliks huffed, glaring daggers at the albino as the other let out a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. He loved to rile Feliks up, it was amusing how feisty he gets when the right buttons are pushed._

_“Oi, I could have done it all myself. We just happened to have the same goals, so I figured why not?” Gilbert retorted. Feliks crossed his arms as he raised an eyebrow at him._

_“Tak, alright. If that’s the case, why are you still here?”_

_“I told you. I didn’t get to thank you.” It was then that he reached into the folds of his clothes, pulling out a small bracelet. He took Feliks’ wrist and held his hand flat before placing the bracelet onto his wrist. “Think of it as a sign of ally ship. Friendship. Whatever you want to think, Ja?”_

_Green eyes would look down at the bracelet, his heart doing flips as he saw the two birds that represented their coat of arms. “Ah… Gilbert, you—” His words were cut off as he felt a hand ruffle his hair. “No need to thank me. It works out, since we are allies after all.” He grinned turning and immediately walking off. “I’m going to head back, I left my leader hanging. See you, Polskie!” He said over his shoulder as he left a shocked Poland staring after him._

_A smile developed on his face, his heart suddenly warm…_

_Little did he know that was the last time Prussia would show him any bit of kindness, and this was only the beginning._

_…………_

_Four centuries later, when his whole word was ripped apart in the partitions. The same bracelet, which he had kept for so long in a small box in the back of his room had been picked up by Gilbert during the first few weeks of him being conquered._

_“Aww, would you look at this.” The teasing tone spoke, lips puckered as he turned to Poland. The bracelet was held in hand by two fingers, and Poland stood there with a humiliated and angry flush. Glaring down at his feet as his new owner bent down to level himself. “You kept this after all these years? How cute.” A smirk, before the object was soon thrown sideways into the nearby fireplace. It burned to ashes that night._

_At the time, Feliks felt two emotions. Detachment and sadness._

_Detachment because of what the other had done to him._

_Sadness for his feelings, that had been buried dormant for so long, being stomped on right in front of his face._

_Tears would soon fall, as he was left alone in the empty room. Alone._

“Dziękuję Ci.” It was a simple response, muffled. Slowly, he pulled back, misty-eyed as he wiped any remaining tears away.

“You didn’t have to…”

“ ** _Nein_**. I did.” He reached forward, brushing Feliks’ hair behind his ear before using both hands to once again cup his face. “I have so much to make up for, Feliks. I hurt you in more ways than I can count…” His voice was filled with softness, but also a hint of pain as he himself relieved the things he had done in his mind. He can’t ever take it back, but he can make up for it. Little by little.

“Let’s not talk about that though. Let’s see if it looks as good on you as it did the first time.” He grinned, his voice taking a playful turn as he watched Feliks put in on. Feliks smiled, slipping the object on his wrist, tentatively brushing his fingers over it. Gilbert had leaned over and placed a kiss on Feliks’ wrist, hovering for a moment before moving up and placing a kiss on his lips.

This kiss was passionate, both pulling each other as close as possible as all sorts of powerful emotions filled the both of them. It didn’t take long before the need for air became too great, and they both parted. Their breath intermingled, a small laugh emitting from Feliks before speaking softly, “Kocham Cię…”

Gilbert let out small exhales, before chuckling.

“Ich liebe dich auch.”

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Important: I do not speak Polish or German, so I apologize if any of these are presented the wrong way! Or if translations are wrong!
> 
> Proszę - Please  
> Bitte - Please  
> Chłopak - Boy  
> Arschloch - Asshole  
> Bist du in Ordnung - Are you alright  
> Liebling - Pet name, like "Darling"  
> Komm her - Come here  
> Puppe - Doll  
> Beruhig dich - Relax  
> Przepraszam - I'm sorry  
> Was - What  
> Halt die Klappe - Shut up  
> Versprechen - Promise  
> Tak - Yes  
> Es tut mir Leid - I'm sorry  
> Ty kurwa - You fuck  
> Komm schon - Come on  
> Gówno - Shit  
> Głupi Germański - Stupid Germanic  
> Dziękuję Ci - Thank you  
> Kocham Cię - I love you  
> Ich Liebe dich auch - I love you too
> 
> This takes place in the mid to late 90s, around the time Gilbert and Feliks first got together. In my timeline, they bonded throughout the Cold War as they were both behind the iron curtain during the last half of the 20th century. During this time they became inseparable and eventually fell in love. While their past with the betrayals, the partitions, ww1 and ww2 still haunt them, they plan to do their best to move past that and be happy.. and they do!


End file.
